


Still Learning

by glackedandmullered



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: street!Michael, yetiokay au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1516865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the street!Michael AU by Yetiokay on tumblr. Michael is super hungry one day and is just munching through the fridge and one of the guys makes the comment that he is eating them out of house and home. He gets self conscious and stops eating because "he doesn't want to make them spend any more money than they already have."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick thanks to tumblr user spiderjockey for her assistance as always <3

Food had never been something Michael could pass up. When the rare opportunity arose to get something into his hollow stomach he took it with open arms and hungry eyes, whatever it may be. A rotten sandwich tasted like gourmet cuisine, cold solid fries left on a park bench might as well be five star meal and, the one time a lady - clearly not from the area - handed him a styrofoam cup of chicken soup, he thought his way of living had finally taken his life for good and this was exactly what heaven was like. 

So needless to say, having food at his disposal 24 hours a day was something that took a lot of getting used to. Michael spent the first few days with the guys wolfing down every meal, consuming plates and plates in 2 minutes flat until the men told him to slow down lest he make himself ill, and he did. Many times he found himself with his head hanging over the toilet with a soothing hand on his back as he choked up everything that had filled his stomach to the brim. After that first week he slowed down, once he realised that the food was always going to be there, he was no longer going to starve in freezing alleyways, he wouldn’t have to fight for the scraps in McDonalds trash cans, and it wasn’t going to disappear if he took his time eating it. 

So he picked, he ate small amounts at meals times and then followed it up by plucking bits and pieces out of the fridge; heating up cans of beans and eating them with a fork in front of the TV while the guys worked, consuming a whole roast chicken over the course of one Thursday and barely apologising when they came home and looked put out that the bird wasn’t there for them to eat for dinner. They never said a word though. Not a single word just in case they scared him, they knew how much food meant to the formerly homeless lad, and if he wanted to chomp down the contents of their fridge then so be it, they could go to the grocery store on the way home from work. No said a word and he never thought twice about it. 

All it took was a misplaced joking comment from Gavin. 

He wandered into the kitchen just as Michael was chomping his way through a bag of doritos, hands dusty with cheesy powder, same as his lips. 

“Christ Michael, you’re eating us out of house and home, leave some for the rest of us.” He laughed and took a cereal box down from the top of the fridge. 

He missed the horrified look on Michael’s face as he left, the way he dropped the chip in his hand back into the bag and sealed up the doritos, shoving them quickly back into the cabinet over the microwave, his face paling. He missed Michael leaving the kitchen, sitting down on the couch with a shell shocked expression that no one else caught either. 

That night Michael made no move to fetch a midnight snack. He stayed in his bed in the guestroom, covers pulled up tight to his neck, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t meant to take all their food, he thought it was okay to eat; that was the first thing they had drilled into his head, eat whenever you want, that food isn’t a privilege it was sustenance that Michael needed and something they were happy to provide for him. Maybe he had been eating too much. His stomach had certainly filled out in the few weeks he had been with them, no longer curving inwards, the bones not nearly as prominent but maybe he should slow down; but it wasn’t just himself to think about. He thought about the men, how much money they were spending on feeding him and he was being so ungrateful, he hadn’t once offered any to the others and had gone through the stocks of their cabinets ten times over. He had to give it a rest. Starting now.

He had gone days before, without eating. He could do it again. 

\---

No one noticed, when Michael stopped disappearing to get snacks, when he ate just the smallest amount of his dinner, scraping the majority of it onto someone else’s plate with a laugh. Of course they didn’t see any of it when they were at work and Michael avoided the kitchen like the plague, not letting a single morsel pass his lips during the day. His stomach cramped in a familiar way, grumbling painfully as he sat beside Ray, game controller shaking in his grip. He reasoned with himself that it was the game play vibration; even though he knew that had nothing to do with it. 

He couldn’t understand why this was affecting him so much now. On the streets the meals had been few and far between, his hunger replaced by his need to survive, and seven or even eight days with nothing but dirty water and scraps would barely affect him after so much time out there. Now though, now he was struggling to get up in the mornings after only three days, feeling sick though he had nothing inside him to throw up. His head was full of fog and mist, conversations shared over game night meaning nothing to him, and it was all he could do to laugh when it looked like he should just to curb the suspicion. 

Just over a week later, with an emptier stomach than he’d had in a while, he staggered down the stairs to wait for the men to get home. He had spent a lot of the last few days sleeping while they were working, curled up on their bed, the comfort of their smells calming his mind enough to let him pass out for a while. In the middle of the night he had been plagued with terrible sharp pains rocketing through his gut, keeping him awake for hours while he curled into a ball under his sheets, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out and letting on that something was happening. At least he had his own room, so he didn’t have to worry about the movement waking the lads and gents on the other side of the wall. 

Getting up from the couch when he heard the front door open and close, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He used the edge of the couch as a guide as he made his way waveringly towards the voices filtering through the open door. 

“Michael you here?” Michael was surprised how far away the voice sounded, he knew they were merely feet away from him but it felt like there were miles of ocean between them. He raised a hand to touch his forehead, slowly closing his eyes and breathing deeply to quell the dizziness. He called out to them, surprised again, this time by the weakness of his own words. 

Ray tossed his backpack down as he came into the room, flopping down onto one of the chairs with a passive greeting in Michael’s direction. Then two Gavins walked through the door. No, no just one Gavin, maybe Gavin and Geoff. Michaels vision was blurry, but he could feel the weight of his glasses on his nose. He lilted to the side, catching himself and just missing the words that were spoken cautiously in his direction as he did so. 

He heard his name and glanced up, though from the looks on their, worryingly blurry, faces they hadn’t just spoken his name once. 

“You look pale, maybe you should sit down.” Jack was approaching him with his hands outstretched; his brows were furrowed and he looked concerned, but the darkness swirling in Michael’s head stopped him from realising the concern was for him. The air he was breathing in felt thick as tar, every inhale getting caught in his throat and only allowing a thin stream of oxygen to reach his lungs where it boiled up and turned to smoke that clogged his arteries and filled his head with fog that seeped over his eyes, blacking out his vision. The last thing he saw was Jack making a leap forward before his knees hit the floor and he knew no more.

\---

His head was pounding. Brain pulsing so strongly against his skull he feared it would leak out of the cracks. Disjointed conversation filtered through the fog, hints of concern and fear, maybe a little panic, jarring the air.

“...ichael.”

“‘s he okay?”

“’s warm...” 

“Michael, can you hear me?” No mistaking that was Geoff, and he was close. The pressure on the sides of his face must be the mans hands, he reasoned. Words like mosquitoes buzzed in his ears, and he tried to wriggle away from them, not having the strength to lift a hand to bat them away. 

“Shut up everyone, give him some fucking space.” Definitely Geoff. The sound of the older man’s voice was enough to stir Michael from his light doze, the redhead’s mental functions sharpening until he was able to crack open both eyes. He was met by Geoffs face not four inches from his own and he started, blinking rapidly to clear the last of the fog. Taking stock of his situation to realised he was on the ground between the door and the couch, back flat against the carpet while Geoff leaned over him - a little further back now that he could see Michael was awake - and the others were kneeled behind the oldest man. 

Michael immediately tried to sit up, the headrush hitting him so hard that he very nearly passed out again, until Ryan darted up from his position to sit behind the redhead, encouraging him to lie back against the gents chest. 

“Be careful, not so fast.” He cautioned lightly, a cool hand resting on Michaels forehead.

“Sorry.” He couldn’t help that being the first thing that came out of his mouth. “Sorry.” He said again as he wriggled in Ryan’s arms, trying to get free. He was such a burden, first he’d eaten all their food and now he was causing them stress when he was sure all they wanted was a quiet night in their own home, with none of his dramatic bullshit. 

“What happened?” Gavin asked, nudging Geoff to the side and kneeling close to Michael. The redhead lowered his eyes to the ground, avoiding looking any of them in the eyes. He was embarrassed, mainly, utterly ashamed that he had fainted like a little girl. If he had still been on the streets he would have been stripped bare of all his belongings and left for the mongrel mutts to find. 

“I… I don’t know,” Michael lied, fidgeting slightly. Geoff raised an eyebrow sceptically and placed a hand on Michaels knee. 

“Do we need to go to the hospital?” He asked smoothly, though his eyes were creased with concern.

“N-No!” Michael stammered, shaking his head quickly. A wave of dizziness hit him once more and he had to take a moment to collect himself. “No, I’m okay. Really. Must have just stood up too fast.” He could tell from their faces that they didn’t believe him, not even close. He wouldn’t have believed himself going by the way he had said the words; weak, feeble, and nowhere near believable.

“Want to try that again?” Ryan asked, massaging the redheads shoulders, sending calming waves down his spine. 

It was that moment when his stomach decided to make itself known, for that past few days he hadn’t felt hungry, his stomach so empty that it didn’t even feel a part of him anymore; but now, for whatever reason, it grumbled so loudly that it startled everyone around. 

“You hungry, Michael?” Gavin asked with a teasing smile on his face. A teasing smile that fell flat along with the rest of them when Michael said nothing and instead slumped against Ryan, looking down at the ground.

He closed his eyes, feeling close to passing out for a second time and he could hear a voice a way in front of him, “Michael?”

“What?” He snapped, he couldn’t stand all the attention on him. If he thought for one second he could stand up and run without collapsing a second time then he would have been out that door and gone in a flash. 

"You haven't been eating." Ryan said quietly from behind him, if anyone would have figured it out it had to be Ryan. Of course it did. 

" I-I have" Michael fought weakly, though the way he averted his eyes from everyone wasn't the most believable. When he raised his eyes, Geoff looked furious. 

"Why the fuck haven't you been eating?" Michael hadn’t seen a person switch between emotions as rapidly as the tattoo’d man before him since the gang fight of ‘08, and that guy had some kind of mental shit going on. 

"I have!" Geoff shook his head, a look of pure disbelief painting his features. 

"I'll believe you when you're not lying on the floor after passing out and looking like you're about to do it again." He held michaels gaze, not letting him turn away, the lie plain on his face "Someone get some him some juice" he said bluntly, and Michael felt like someone had filled his stomach to the brim with rocks as Ray and Gavin both jumped up with stern expressions on their faces. He caught them out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to disrespect Geoff by turning away from him, even as a tall glass was thrust into his line of vision. His shaking hands weren't enough to hold it steady, juice splashing over the sides, down his hands and onto his knees until a hand reached out to steady him and help him lift the drink to his lips. 

Slowly the juice disappeared down his throat, his stomach growling gratefully even though he felt weird, the fruity liquid sitting heavy in his gut. 

When he was able to stand without swaying too much, he was aided, practically carried, over to the couch, where he was rested against the cushions and the coffee table was covered by 5 men's squashing in so they could hold all their attention on the young man before them. 

"Why haven't you been eating?" Jack asked softly, "don't lie to us." He added when Michael opened his mouth to protest again. 

"I just..." Michael trailed off, hoping they would read his mind because damn if he wanted to say it out loud. He was given no such luck as the rear stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I've been eating too much," he mumbled finally. "All your hard earned money and I was wasting it because I was being a pig. Ever since I got here I've been draining your house dry and it's not fair." 

Ray tapped him on the knee, garnering his attention. "Where would you get that idea?" He asked softly, looking hurt and almost a little insulted that he would assume as much from them. Jack nodded, crossing his arms and studying Michael with a stern eye. 

"We've never said you weren't welcome to anything you could take." 

Michael gulped and drew in a slow breath, his head felt a little clearer for the juice but he was still pretty out of it. "I was eating you out of house and home." He replied quietly, his eyes flicking, just briefly, to look at Gavin who suddenly looked horrified. 

"Fuck, Michael I didn't mean that. It was a joke." The Brit squawked, jumping forward to hug Michael before Geoff got in his way, puffing out his chest and looking too intimidating for Michaels liking. He had never meant to cause this much trouble. 

"You told him he was eating too much?" Geoff all but roared, his face red.

"It was a joke!" Gavin repeated, holding his hands up in defense of himself. “You never said anything, I thought you knew!” Geoff cut him off, pointing a finger at him and fixing him with a steely glare.

“Don’t blame Michael, this wasn’t his fault.” Gavin shuddered under the scrutiny and nodded, lowering his eyes to the floor.

“Leave him alone, Geoff.” Michael whispered, too tired to put any effort into his words and hoping Geoff would listen to him regardless. “It was my mistake.” 

Geoff didn’t say anything in response, only stood up, giving a warning look to Gavin that said ‘we are talking about this later,’ and headed towards the kitchen, Jack following in tow.

“I’m going to make some dinner, and we are _all_ going to eat it.” He gave one last pointed look at Michael, the young man shrinking under his gaze, and left. 

“I’m sorry, Michael.” Gavin said, his mouth turned down and moisture in his eyes. Gavin never looked guilty, that Michael knew even from only being around him for a few weeks. To see him truly remorseful tugged at Michaels heartstrings. 

“I don’t blame you, Gavvers. I promise. Guess I’ve still got some learning to do.” Gavin nodded and hugged him briefly before leaving.

“You’ll never be a burden to us.” Ryan said honestly, and again Michael wasn’t surprised that it would be the intuitive man that voiced his own personal thoughts. The lad decided against replying, just nodded briefly, letting his head fall back against the couch. 

"Oh and Michael?" Michael hummed in response to Ray who was still sitting opposite him. "It's your house too you know" Michael blinked, swallowing hard as Ray got up, patting him on the knee in a way that, in any other circumstance, might look patronising; but to Michael it was a huge comfort. 

_Our house_. Had a nice ring to it.


End file.
